


Doing Things By Halves

by ashkatom



Series: 100 Post Ficathon [7]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:04:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkatom/pseuds/ashkatom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Battleship Condescension, with a fully-functional pilot, runs through dreambubbles.</p>
<p>Smack-bang into the Sufferer's dreambubble, to be precise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doing Things By Halves

Captain’s Log, —Entry 1025/783/alpha-695  
hey fii2hbiitch  
anomaliie2 detected  
awooga awooga  
38[ R—E—ELY Pollux, is the sass neseasary?  
ii’ll quiit the 2a22 when you quiit the fii2hpun2.  
Report on the anemones. Do try to keep the sass to a minimum.  
iit’2 liike  
we keep hiittiing pocket2 of graviity. iit’2 almo2t a2 iif there are planet2 there but the external camera2 aren’t capturiing anythiing.  
iit’2 not affectiing the 2hiip much. we’re goiing two fa2t and the 2hiip operate2 on all terraiin2, 2o we’re out of any local graviitiie2 before they can drag u2 down.  
T)(en )(ow did you notice?  
wow  
kiind of the 2hiip here cn  
ii notiice everythiing  
W)(ale, keep a camera on it, t)(en.  
I’m S)(OR---E it’s nofin to worry aboat, though.  
fuck my weiird 2emblance of a liife  
nobody de2erve2 thii2 many fuckiing pun2.  
End Log Entry 1025/783/alpha-695

\--

Captain’s Log, —Entry 1025/815/alpha-695  
2o  
ii am the be2t 2hiip  
they’re liittle bubble uniiver2e2  
whiich beg2 the que2tiion  
where the fuck are we  
nav tell2 me we’re iin the miiddle of nowhere, riight where we’re meant two be  
but every tiime we pop iintwo one of the2e bubble2  
bam  
alterniian coordiinate2  
what the fuck cn  
ju2t  
what the fuck  
S)(oos)(, Pollux!  
Are you )(onestly going to be like t)(is –EF—ERRY time t)(is )(appens?  
WHAT. IIS. IIT.  
O)( goodness, capslock! You must be aggrieved!  
T)(ey’re bubble universes, as you said. Gl’bgolyb )(as been STRANG----ELY silent on t)(e matter, )(owever, I infer t)(at t)(ey )(ouse dead memories.  
Not)(ing t)(at need concern you, my s)(ip.  
you know  
you alway2 remiind me that ii’m your 2hiip when you’re mentiioniing 2omethiing you don’t want me two know  
End Log Entry 1025/815/alpha-695

\--

Captain’s Log, —Entry 1025/817/alpha-695  
OK! let’2 explore thii2 bubble!  
)(---ELMSMAN!  
W-E )(AV—E MORAY IMPORTANT FINS TO DO.  
liike what, 2aiiliing two the edge of the uniiver2e?  
iit’2 cool cn ii got thii2  
\--MANUAL CONTROLS DISABLED--  
O)( cod.  
)(--ELMSMAN!  
I KN----EW I S)(OALDN’T )(AV—E TRUST----ED T)(AT M--EC)(ANIC!  
wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee  
2up uniiver2e   
why doe2n’t cn want two talk two me about you  
T)(is is ridiceelous.  
Pollux, give me back t)(e controls or I w)(ale )(ave you disciplined.  
p22222t cn  
ii don’t giive a fuck  
iit would take eterniity two calculate the number of fucks ii don’t giive  
thii2 de2ert  
look2 famiiliiar  
fuck  
FUCK  
CN WHAT THE FUCK  
Sig)(.  
I did try to warn you. Do be an adult aboat it, Pollux. T)(is isn’t your life. It’s just a failed experiment of a timeline.  
And reely...  
Do you want your little mutantblood seaing you like t)(is?  
ii  
ii gue22 not  
I didn’t fin so.  
Don’t worry, )(elmsman 38] Just give me back t)(e controls. Isle take care of eferryfin.  
\--MANUAL CONTROLS ENABLED--  
Good ship.  
End Log Entry 1025/817/alpha-695

\--

Captain’s Log, —Entry 1025/818/alpha-695  
do you mii22 anyone  
W)(at 38/?  
2orry  
2tupiid que2tiion  
End Log Entry 1025/818/alpha-695

\--

Captain’s Log, —Entry 1025/907/alpha-695  
E’LL FIND YOU, PSI, SHE CAN’T KEEP RUNNI  
what  
Just a loose signal, I bereef! No need to worry aboat it.  
but nobody 2hould be able two penetrate my defen2e2  
2eriiou2ly  
iit2 iimpo22iible  
Fins work STRANG---ELY in the bubbles. Reality is w)(at efferyone makes it. The impossible becomes possible through bereef and memory.  
beliief huh  
wa2 iit  
hiim  
I t)(oug)(t we agreed it didn’t matter.  
what are you 2cared ii’ll run off wiith hiim  
2ure ju2t let me 2tretch my leg2  
oh whoop2  
ii don’t have any  
welp  
there goe2 that plan  
)(a)(a!  
O)(, Pollux. T)(is s)(ip would be so boring without you.  
End Log Entry 1025/907/alpha-695

\--

Captain’s Log, —Entry 1025/921/alpha-695  
2o  
iif realiity ii2 what you make iit  
what’2 2topped you from ju2t fiindiing a bubble and gettiing what you want out of iit  
W)(ale...  
W)(o says t)(at I’m looking for somefin?  
Is it so )(ard to bereef I’m bored of Alternia?  
I want somefin new, Pollux.  
Somefin --EXCITING.  
2omethiing two cru2h under your riidiiculou2 heel2  
\--EXACTLY 38D.  
SI ARE YOU THERE  
PSI  
STOP AND ANSWER ME, BULGEWIT!  
Keep flying, )(elmsman.  
ii  
ii can’t  
\--MANUAL CONTROLS DISABLED--  
38| I )(ave R-E--ELY got to fix t)(at.  
\--PRIVATE CONVERSATION ENABLED [12039869]--  
>View conversation  
You can’t, iidiiot! Iit’2 priivate!  
I KN-EW I shoaledn’t )(ave let you rewrite the error meseages.  
End Log Entry 1025/921/alpha-695

\--

\-- candidGovernance [CG] has started trolling twofoldAbolitionist [TA] --  
CG: PLEASE.  
CG: PLEASE TELL ME THAT YOU STILL USE THIS HANDLE AND I’M NOT JUST SHOUTING INTO THE ENDLESS VOID.  
CG: TROLLING WORKS REALLY WEIRDLY HERE SO GOG KNOWS IF THIS IS EVEN GETTING THROUGH TO YOU.  
CG: JUST.  
CG: LET ME KNOW, I GUESS. PREFERABLY BEFORE YOU GO TEARING THROUGH HERE AT MACH 5.  
CG: OH.   
CG: YOU STOPPED.  
CG: THAT’S SOMETHING NEW.  
CG: DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I’VE BEEN CHASING YOUR HUGE SPACESHIP ASS, CASTOR.  
TA: liike  
TA: ii dunno  
TA: ii gue22 there’2 holiiday2 and 2iick tiime  
TA: but giive or take  
TA: 2iix hundred 2weep2 or 2o  
CG: YEAH.  
CG: JUST AFUCKINGBOUT.  
CG: SO ARE YOU GOING TO COME WITH ME NOW OR DO I HAVE TO COME PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE AND DRAG YOU OFF OVER MY SHOULDER LIKE THE HERO OF SOME ANCIENT KISMESIS FLICK?  
TA: 2f  
TA: you’re dead  
CG: REALLY? HADN’T NOTICED.  
CG: GOT A NEW NAME AND EVERYTHING.  
TA: 2f.  
TA: ii’m not.  
CG: UH.  
CG: WOW.  
CG: YOU LOOK GOOD FOR A SHIP YOUR AGE.  
CG: VERY... UNRUSTED.  
CG: WAIT.  
CG: WAIT WAIT WAIT.  
CG: IS CONDESCE ON THAT SHIP. I MEAN, IF YOU’RE STILL ALIVE. SHE HAS TO BE, RIGHT.   
TA: well, ye2  
CG: RIGHT.  
CG: AHAHAHAHAHAHA.  
CG: LAND YOUR FUCKING SPACESHIP, POLLUX CASTOR, AND PREPARE TO BE BOARDED.  
TA: what.  
TA: you know, ii wanted two hear you 2ay that, but not liike thii2.  
CG: SHUT UP, I’M TRYING TO BE A BADASS.  
TA: adorabada22.  
\-- candidGovernance [CG] has ceased trolling twofoldAbolitionist [TA] –

\--

Captain’s Log, —Entry 1025/921-2/alpha-695  
\--SHIP LANDING--  
)(elmsman, I don’t remember gifin permissean for t)(is!  
that’2 ok cn  
ii don’t remember a2kiing for iit  
And just W)(AT do you fin )(--E can do for you?  
)(e’s dead.  
You’re ALIV----E.  
And you always will be, if I )(ave anyfin to say aboat it.  
I need my )(elmsman, after all 38].  
then con2iider thii2 a giift.  
you’re riight, after all  
he ii2 dead  
what can he do?  
NOT)(ING.  
As )(as been demonstrated.  
Ferry w)(ale. You may sea your mutantblood. A gift, for your loyalty.  
oh the iirony.  
End Log Entry 1025/921-2/alpha-695

\--

He punches Condesce in the face. You quickly save the footage to a hidden corner of a hard drive everyone’s forgotten about except you and watch as she tries to stab a ghost.

You should probably be more upset that he’s dead, but, well, watching him annoy Condesce is hilarious, and it’s not like you want him to be alive in here, after all. Nobody deserves that fate. After a few more failed stabs, he simply pats her on the back, says, “There, there,” (it’s so good to hear his voice, you save that too, you didn’t even realise ships could get lonely), and walks off.

You turn on the lights for him and lead him to the piloting chamber. When he sees your body, he sucks in a deep breath between his teeth. Condesce followed him, and her lackeys followed her, and this is the first time you’ve seen anyone through your ocular orbs and not a camera in...

Yeah, about six hundred sweeps. It’s kind of giving you a headache.

“You’re disgusting,” he says to Condesce.

“You’re incorporeal,” she replies, in freezing tones. “Elsewise you wouldn’t have a head left to talk to me with in that manner.”

Suf strides towards you, his boots clicking against the walkways. Condesce’s hand tightens on her trident when she hears the sound, but the piloting chamber is your room, and you’ve been able to put in a lot of defenses that aren’t on any blueprints. It helps, having menial labourers loyal to the Church of the Sufferer spread far and wide.

You flick on the computer station next to her and type _even thiink about iit and ii wiill 2piit you iintwo 2pace_.

She relaxes and sneers at you. You think maybe she only relaxed because you implied a future in which you’d be in space.

Holy fuck, are you sick of space.

Suf stands below you, his mouth twisted in a grimace. You hope it’s at the wires and not, well, you. Finally he says, “I am too fucking short for this shit.” Before you can offer to help him up he starts climbing up the wires carefully, digging his feet into the crevices they make as they twist together. Without too much effort, he manages to get to your level and reclines in the wires next to you.

“Groth,” you try to say, but it dries up in your throat. Gog knows when the last time you used your voice was.

Suf leans in and rests his forehead against yours. “You’re gonna like this, deucebag.”

You raise your eyebrows. At least your eyebrow muscles still work.

He feels the movement and smiles. “You’re gonna have to split yourself in two.”

It hits you all in a rush then. These places operate on the power of belief, and Suf’s belief could be used to sharpen knives. This is your ticket out. You can finally escape this shit, after six hundred odd sweeps.

But.

But you’re also going to have to stay behind. You’re going to have to leave yourself here and let Condesce torture you until you die. You’re going to have to face all of that blackness alone, again, and it’ll be even worse. The you left behind will know that somewhere, you’re free. And he’ll hate you for it.

Tears leak out of your eyes. Apparently tear ducts still work. Suf brushes them away with a thumb.

You can’t leave him.

You can’t leave yourself.

Condesce taps her trident on the floor impatiently. The metal-on-metal screech makes all but the most veteran of her attendants wince.

“C’mon, Pol,” Suf says. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

You make your decision and tear yourself free. But, and here’s the kicker, you decide who you leave behind as well. You give him the routines, you share the snark, you let him remember all the good times and the bad times, and you let him know that you will be coming for him no matter what.

You drop to the ground because whoops, legs are a novelty and you’ve kind of forgotten how they work. Behind you, a copy of yourself stays in the wires, motionless, barely alive. Poor bastard. But you did what you could, and you’re sure he won’t blame you.

Suf jumps down and helps you up. You take a moment to get used to two legs, two arms, two eyes, five senses, and psionics you can use again. Then you brush him off and walk over to Condesce.

You’re shorter than her. You didn’t really expect that. She waves off her guards and arches an eyebrow at you, the rest of her face carefully blank. She showed more emotion on the comms system, oddly. “Whale, Psiionic? Going to throw me into a sun?”

“I’ve wanted to do thith for a long time,” you say. Oh, you still have a lisp. Fantastic. You ignore the guards, grab Condesce by the hair, and tug her down to kiss her, biting hard into her bottom lip. Before her guards can attempt to murder you, you add one last jolt and step back.

For the first time in six hundred sweeps, Condesce looks absolutely shell-shocked.

You take another step back and grab Suf’s hand, then start leadng him out one of the service routes. “Thee you around, Fishbitch,” you say, with a wave over your shoulder.

You put up a shield just as she throws her trident at you. It bounces off your psionics and lands with a clunk. By the time you come across her again, this should be a kismessitude for the ages.

\--

The ship takes off once you’re far enough away. You watch it go and feel sorry for yourself.

Suf wraps his arms around you and drags you into his lap, then presses a light kiss into your neck. “So. Six hundred sweeps.”

A sense of relief blossoms inside you. You weren’t sure of his feelings for you, but, well... if a man spends six hundred sweeps chasing you down, _after he dies_ , you’re inclined to think he’s at least interested.

You lean back into him and breathe in. He smells like Suf, sand and sweat and something all his own. You missed scents. “I gueth we have a lot of catching up to do.”


End file.
